


Contented

by HerBrazenElegance



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerBrazenElegance/pseuds/HerBrazenElegance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mink and Clear go berry-picking. That's it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contented

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to preface this with the fact that I wrote the setting similar to my hometown rather than guessing at the layout of where Mink might actually live. Berry-picking has always been a romantic thing for me that I really enjoy, but I've only ever done it in Alaska, so I wrote this with my personal mental image in mind...hence the references to tundra. I don't actually headcanon Mink as native Alaskan - I'm just using what I know about my own land and culture.  
> Anyway, that's it. Hope you enjoy! This is probably going to get some editing in the future.

Between his companion’s startling exclamations and the hot August sun beating down on his back, Mink should have been downright fed up with the situation. Instead, he was quietly smiling to himself, only mildly bothered, kneeling in a safe spot in the damp tundra where he wouldn’t crush the berries he so painstakingly searched for. Clear wasn’t so careful, at least not at first, until given several reminders to please be mindful, watch where he’s stepping, and for god’s sake if he does it again he’s going to get sent home to busy himself with something else. He could be troublesome, to say little, and yet Mink fully enjoyed his company in what would otherwise have been an empty, too-hot field.

"Mink-san!" Came Clear’s cheerful voice. Mink, as usual, gave no indication that he’d heard him, finding it pointless as Clear tended to go on and tell him whatever it was that was concerning him anyway. The android approached him — now mindful of the berries underfoot — proudly presenting a swollen, pale orange cloudberry he’d presumably just taken from the earth. Mink gave it a short look over and awarded him with a word of praise.

Clear beamed. “I want you to have it, Mink-san.”

"I have enough," Mink said calmly, gesturing to the ever-filling bucket at his side. "Add it to your own."

"But this one is perfect," Clear insisted. "You should have it now, at its best."

Mink sighed softly, dropping various berries he’d collected in his palm into the bucket near him. He met Clear’s gaze, that face as unflinchingly cheerful and handsome and bright the way his own had never been, and, mouth open, submitted to his fate.

Clear grinned victoriously and happily pulled on his trademark yellow scarf during the few seconds Mink ate. “Verdict?”

Mink had already returned to clearing out the patch of berries his hand was in before and took a moment to gather some before answering. “Would have went well with the dessert you were planning.”

"Ah, that’s a shame for the dessert," Clear commented. "But I’m happy it went to you instead."

Mink only glanced at Clear, already expecting the look of pure endearment on his face that came with such simple statements. Clear had a way, as artificial as he was, with making Mink feel emotions he thought long dead, however fleeting they may have been. It was all he could do to accept the devotion Clear had to give in small doses.

"I should find more," Clear eventually said. Wind gusted over the fields in a quick burst shortly after he'd said it, whipping up his scarf into his face and forcing him to adjust it.

"Make sure to leave some," Mink said, demonstrating as he stood up to migrate elsewhere despite not having picked every berry in front of him. "If you clear too much of an area, it could be two or three more seasons before they grow this well again."

"Yes, Mink-san," he said, and he turned away to bound over the spongey terrain.

Later, when the sun sunk low on the horizon and the wind picked up, they hauled their buckets back home with intent to do some serious baking, more on Clear’s end than Mink’s, which was perfectly fine with the both of them. Mink was a hell of a cook to be sure, but Clear had that robotic efficiency and veteran skills of a seasoned mother, not to mention the energy needed for it after several hours in the sun. Mink only stood by to list the ingredients of certain foods -- some of them dishes from his childhood that took him to a place that seemed like ancient history by then -- and offer advice when absolutely necessary.

"Thirty minutes," Clear said. He sat down next to Mink, who was focused reading a book, on the couch and handed him a mug.

"It’s late," Mink said, eyeing the coffee disdainfully.

"You’re tired," Clear said. "This will make you feel better, right? Besides," he added, scooting in closer and hanging lovingly on his arm, "I need you awake for later."

"You’ll wear me out," Mink warned.

"Good." Clear kissed his face and pulled Mink's hand closest to him away from the novel and replaced it with the mug. Mink rarely enjoyed or even allowed for Clear to boss him around in such a way, but something about the events of the day put him in a better humor. Clear was an exception to most things in his life now, anyway, and when it came to caring and this sort of suggestive flirting, the only one. It only made sense that there would be moments of weakness.

Troublesome, to say little. Such is life when you are in love with a robot who aims to please.

**Author's Note:**

> Mink being reluctant to care about others because of the whole planned-my-death thing but then letting his guard down for precious robot loving more like fuCk mE i love him. I love THEM. I will FIGHT


End file.
